


Among Ashes

by Human_Trash_101



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: M/M, Minicat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Human_Trash_101/pseuds/Human_Trash_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig and his gang built themselves an empire throughout the years. Assassinations, busting illegal services, robbing corrupted banks, just the jobs they found important and fair. Finding every way to only hurt the corrupt and malicious, the gang made sure civilians would never get caught up in their mess. They ran a strict business, always kept to the plan, and never fell behind on schedule. Everything was perfect, the crime in the city was shrinking smaller and smaller, but that also meant the surviving crime leaders were continuing were getting smarter and more creative with their crimes. The gang continued to adapt and brought down the businesses, and more appeared, it was just how the city worked. Everything was neat and orderly, until the gang received a message that changed the entire game.</p><p>-Discontinued- (Sort of. I've continued the story but replaced Minicat with Basicallyido407 on another document.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caora/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Humble Beginnings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525344) by [Caora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caora/pseuds/Caora). 



Craig’s slender fingers lightly tapped the keys of his laptop as numbers and letters continued to scroll past his eyes alarmingly fast. The bright emerald of the seemingly random symbols reflected off his glasses which covered his copper eyes. He squinted as some more complex coding rolled onto his screen. The house was dead quiet with the exception of the soft clicking of keys being pressed on occasion. Craig desperately wanted to stretch his legs and back after hours of sitting in the same position in fear of missing any important coding. The worn couch under him began to feel as if it had grown claws hours ago, but he refrained from moving. Just when he thought he may punch a hole in his laptop, unfamiliar windows replaced the black and green that had tormented his eyes for a majority of the night. He let a sigh escape his light lips once his bronze eyes flickered across the pages laid before him. Allowing the edges of his face to twitch up into a slight grin, Craig could feel all the anxiety release itself in the sigh as it exited his lungs. He sunk back into the beat up couch and stretch his legs out onto the coffee table where his computer layed.   
Casually, Craig straightened his back and raised his arms above his head, cracking his joints after a long period of barely moving. His cream shirt rose a bit, revealing the smooth skin of his pale stomach before returning to its rightful place. Running a slim hand through his unkempt hair, Craig pushed himself up and trotted back towards the kitchen at the back of the base. His bare feet padded against the cold tile of the kitchen’s floor, a contrast from the wooden floor of the living area. His large pajama pants hung loosely on his hip and covered a majority of his feet. The carmine and white of his pants complimented his shirt when, for once in his life, he wasn’t trying to coordinate an outfit in any way, shape, or form.   
Craig lifted a delicate finger to the side of the party filled coffee machine, only pulling away once he determined the drink was still warm enough to enjoy. After climbing onto the counter to snag a coffee cup out of the cabinets, he silently cursed Tyler for placing them so high. Craig was not short in any sense, the problem was that Tyler was a six foot six monster of a person who insisted on placing the mugs on the top shelf when he had to do dishes. His large build helped him reach the top shelf easily while Craig could only reach if he were to climb atop the pearl countertop. Part of Craig thought that Tyler did it on purpose, only to watch his best friend climb on a counter like a four year old whenever he wanted something warm to drink. Obviously, this usually ended with Tyler snickering as he watched Craig try to reach a handle of any mug. Another part of him believed that it was just a habit from living alone before they started their gang. For the sake of their friendship, Craig always decided it was the latter.   
Once Craig brought his mug to his lips, his glasses became fogged due to the temperature change. He removed his glasses to wipe the lens of his glasses on his shirt as he noticed the silence that infected their base. He was so used to the antics of their gang that he thought he had forgotten what silence sounded like. Vaguely remembering some words thrown at him about a job that evening, Craig searched his mind for clues about his friends whereabouts. He assume Evan was initialing the plan as usual with Jonathan by his side for backup while Lui and Daithi climbed to a tall building with a clear view for sniping if necessary. Daithi would set up camp behind Lui to provide safety and make sure no one could sneak up on him. Marcel and Scotty would wait at the escape routes if their targets tried make a run for it, and Brain waited in the driver's seat of their SUV with Brock in the back incase of an emergency escape. Tyler and Craig would lure their target to their desired place with Craig’s social skills and Tyler’s brute force, but Craig opted to stay behind on this mission to hack into a database and collect important information for their next heist. He assumed that Tyler would be beside Evan to act as a second line of defence while Delirious took over Craig’s role, much to Evan’s dismay. Craig almost laughed aloud. He had been apart of their gang so that he could map out parts of their movements without even being involved.   
Five years have flown by real damn fast, haven’t they, Craig thought with a slight smile gracing his features. They had gone from casual friends to rookie gang members living under one roof to professionals who roomed with another member of the gang over. Lui and Nogla were the first to move into their own apartment once they gained enough money to do so, Nogla complained that he didn’t have enough quiet to practice his music while Lui would follow his friend to the edge of the earth if he asked. Marcel and Scotty quickly followed, then Tyler, Craig, and Brock. But Brock then ended up rooming with Brian when he found a place for himself a little closer to the edge of the city, to a calmer area of housing. Evan and Jonathan had resided where they began, in the same base they usually planned their operations. Craig rolled his neck at the memory of stitching up his friends countless times in that apartment. He and Brock became the designated medics of the group, hell, they even took medical school courses once they had enough money to ensure their friends don’t die.   
Mere seconds after Craig slipped his glasses back onto his nose, his door was nearly knocked off its hinges as two figured burled in with eight more it tow. Craig almost reached for the gun hidden in the drawer beside him, but immediately changed his actions once he heard a familiar groan and Marcel’s screaming, “FUCK! Craig, where’s your med kit?!” The culprits of the noises stumbled through the doorway towards the back of the apartment. Once Craig caught sight of Tyler his chest felt like caving in on itself. Tyler’s arm was slung over Marcel’s shoulder as her practically dragged him through their house. Instantly, Craig rushed to their spare room which was used as a makeshift hospital. His stomach dropped to the floor when he saw the bloody hands covering a wound and the person the hand belonged to. Tyler’s white shirt was smeared with crimson as well as his hands, his cerulean eyes were squinted shut in attempted to hide his immense pain. Craig could felt the constriction in his chest worsen as Tyler lightly groaned when his hands were pried away from his stomach to attempt to clog the bleeding with a towel instead of his hand. Brock ushered everyone except Marcel, Craig, and himself out of the room. Craig flipped into his medical persona immediately, snapping questions about the injury. “What inflicted it?” he demanded in a deadly serious tone as be began to prep Tyler for procedure.   
“Gun,” Marcel replied  
“Type?”  
“Some sort of pistol,”  
“Bullet or shrapnel?”  
“Could be either, I-I-I don’t know?”  
Marcel was obviously shaken up by Tyler’s injury. It had been months since someone from their gang had been severely injured, and by this time, Tyler was phasing in and out of consciousness. Craig pulled on a surgical mask and motioned for Brock and Marcel to hold Tyler down. A sickening metal smell infested his nose, nearly driving him to close his eyes in disgust. His eyes trailed over his best friend who lay on a makeshift gurney in his own home. The young man was obviously in pain as Craig dabbed his wound with damp rag, biting into his lips to muffle his sounds of agony. Unable to move any quicker, he whispered words of reassurance to his friend as he continued to clean his injury. Craig sucked in a muffled breathe before snatching a pair of tweezers and began to dig into the flesh of his best friend. to dig into the flesh of his best friend.


	2. Restless

Craig wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, attempting to rid it of the sweat forming there. His body ached for him to stop for he had been working on the seemingly comatose body in front of him for countless hours. The melodic beeping of the body’s heart monitor had buried itself into Craig’s ears. It had been attached to Tyler, by the courtesy of Brock, early on in the procedure. The song of simplicity kept Craig on his toes while his hands frantically shot around, following their routine. His arms ached and his hands were lightly shaking as he continued to work on saving Tyler. Eyelids dragging towards the floor, Craig sighed. It had no doubt been too many hours since Tyler had been brought in, but bullet removal was a tricky process. His immediate survival rate for being shot in his gut was high, but the wound was extremely prone to infection if not taken care of properly. He had spent far too many hours digging into his best friend’s flesh in attempt to find the bullet without him bleeding to death or dying of infection.  
Craig’s heart skipped a beat when his tweezers brush against something solid while submerged in Tyler’s lower abdomen. He placed a light hand on Tyler’s side before drawing his head closer to the wound in attempt to catch a better look at what he had hit. When the light caught on the object he touched, Craig let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His mind immediately relaxed once he realised he did not just brush Tyler’s backbone, but rather the bullet. Lightly gripping his tweezers, he grasped the metal and began to withdraw. Once he removed the bullet from his gut, he nudged Brock who was sleeping in a chair beside him. He lightly dropped the bullet onto the tray and motioned for him to analyse it in another room. He needed to know if it was poisoned, because if so, Tyler was closer to death than he thought. With that thought, Craig began to slow the bleeding which had begun again. He still thought about it while he was stitching Tyler’s insides back together, and while he was stitching the skin. It plagued his mind as he slid into the chair beside him, infested his head as he ran his hand through his hair. It was the last thought he had when he placed his head down on Tyler’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was a little chime that added to the sweet song of the heart monitor. Together they created a lullaby that lured Craig to sleep.  
Meanwhile, the rest of the boys lay in the lounge, either sleeping or questioning Craig’s mental state. While the boys had taken shifts patching up Tyler, Craig had been working around the clock. It had been nearly two days of pure struggle to keep Tyler alive, no breaks for anything humane. Delirious, Nogla, Lui, and Scotty lie passed out on the worn furniture scattered around the lounge. They had taken their shifts the first couple hours back when Tyler’s life saving equipment hadn't been fully set up yet when the only thing attached was his heart monitor. After the constant fretting about finding the rest of the materials while keeping their friend alive, they deserved their hard earned rest.  
Out of the remaining few awake, Evan was the first to speak up, “I’m worried Craig is going to work himself to death, he hasn’t slept since he started and I don’t thinks he’s eaten anything either.”  
There was a look of agreement between them realizing that their friends was in the situation they feared he would be. Evan sighed heavily before rubbing his eyes harshly with the palms of his hands.  
Brian opened his mouth to add something but quickly shut it when Brock spoke barely above a whisper. “Oh shit,” he nudged Brain and motioned him towards him where he was inspecting the bullet, “fuck dude, what is this?”  
This caught the rest of the boys attention, drawing them to surround the table where a now dented bullet lay. Brock had wedged a pair of tweezers between one part of the shell while another pair was prying it open. With a light pop the metal pieces sprung away from its counterpart. A small plastic bag peaked out one half of the shell, catching the attention of the boys. Brock lifted it from it’s metal casing and held it in the palm of his gloved hand. Inside was a small roll of parchment, skin curled around itself to cover a secret. The boys exchanged glances of confliction, the bullet wasn’t filled with poison, but why would there be protected paper in a bullet which had been buried in one of their earliest members? Cautiously, Brock peeled the ziplock bag open and drew the paper out into his hand. It was barely a third the size of his palm while rolled up like it was. Once his had unrolled the paper, the words scrawled upon it confused the boys even more. 

_ _ _

Craig drifted awake by the soft feeling of something combing through his hair, but calmed as it was gentle and warm. His mind ached while his muscles felt cramped but this helped relieve the pain. The soft motions untangled his strands of unkempt hair. It was a soothing motion, leaving him disconnected from reality as he drifted between the states of conscious and unconscious. He could feel himself losing control over his actions, but couldn’t bring himself to care. His mind was left nearly blank as all he could focus on was the warmth enlaced in his hair, slowly spreading it around his skull, letting it seep deep into his head. A deep breath snaked its way into his lungs, grasping onto every worry, every fear, every dread, and tore it away from him. It left a gaping gash in his chest, left his bones hollow, but the warmth which had already spread into his mind began to fill the holes. The feeling spread throughout his bones, wrapping itself around every muscle and filling every bone. A slight smile twitched his lips upwards as the comfort surrounded his aching body. A hum of approval trickled out of his pale lips, the vibration from his chest echoed in his ears. The soothing feeling slowly lured him back into a heavy slumber.  
When Craig awoke once again, the warm feeling was resting in one spot on the back of his head. His eyes fluttered open, eyelashes brushing the unclothed chest under his cheek. His arms were loosely drooped over Tyler’s torso, arms crossed slightly to fit on his muscular chest. Gently, Craig pulled himself away from his chest, trying his hardest not to wake slumbering friend. While detaching himself from him, the source of heat slipped away from the back of his head and revealed itself to be Tyler’s hand. It fell limply back onto his own chest, rising and falling casually with his breaths. Craig’s eyes trailed over his body, noticing how his chest moved to a silent rhythm. He notice how Tyler’s muscles were relaxed completely for once in his life since they had started the gang. His shoulder were relaxed and Craig didn’t know if he had ever seen them without any tension. Regardless of what he had seen until now, Craig mused at how much younger he looked. Without the stress of being shot or seeing a friend get shot, Tyler could look like any other typical grad student.  
Craig’s eyes shifted to his face after a couple seconds, settling upon his calm features. His eyes lay still behind his eyelids, masking the cobalt he had come to adore. His rosy lips were slightly parted allowing his deeps breathes to slip in and out of his lungs. After a moment of studying, Craig tore his gaze away from him. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he caught sight of the blanket that had been placed around his shoulders. Tyler was obviously in no state to have gone to the lounge and placed it on him so one of the other boys must have draped it over him while he slept.  
Craig thoughts drifted towards the rest of his friends who were oddly quiet. A quick check to the clock fueled his curiosity, because even at this hour they wouldn’t be this quiet. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he pushed himself out of the chair beside Tyler. The blanket dropped to the floor behind him as he lifted himself up to his full height. His eyes were stuck to Tyler once more as he fixed his gaze upon his breathing once more, mesmerized by the light song it sung. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind as he turned away to find the rest of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to 0xmichelleeex0 on Tumblr for helping me edit this chapter! She's an amazing person and super helpful, so check her out.


	3. Remeber

Craig’s feet pattered across the floor, echoing as he searched for his friends. Carefully, he nudged the living room door open. His caramel eyes swept across the lounging area, falling on the bodies draped over the furniture. The moonlight lightly outlined their silhouettes, rising and falling with each breath they took. Blankets were tossed messily on top of them, a small gesture of care from a mystery member of the crew. Craig thought back to the blanket that had been placed over his own shoulders while he slept earlier, but quickly brought his focus back to finding his remaining friends. Gingerly, he stepped around his slumbering friends and caught sight of the light which had crawled around the corner from it’s source. He continued his journey to the source of light, the kitchen. 

Placing a pale hand against the ajar door, Craig gently pushed it open. He slipped inside the kitchen to be blinded by the light, masking everything from his sight. Blinking rapidly, his eyes slowly adjusted to the room around him. He first spied Evan who held a steaming cup of what he assumed was coffee. Beside him stood Brian, staring absently at an empty mug between his palms. Marcel sat behind them at the small wooden table, his confused expression clearly shown. Evan met Craig’s eyes first, acknowledging him with slight nod. Brian glanced up to meet Craig’s gaze next, smiling slightly as a hello, who was then followed by a slightly confused Marcel. 

“Crew meeting in 5,” Evan’s stern voice broke the silence even though he still kept it low not to disturb the sleeping crew in the next room. He lightly placed his mug down in the sink, dumping out the contents, before he stepped through the doors to wake his remaining crew member. 

“Really? Come on, why do we have to start now that Min-” Brian started, but was quickly cut off by Marcel.

“Shut it Brian, you know exactly why we are starting now. This is as urgent as it can get and Mini needed sleep. Now close your mouth and head to Tyler’s room, or hospital, or whatever you want to call it.” 

Mini was startled by Marcel’s unusually serious tone, his voice had cut through Brian’s remark with no hint of his usual joking personality. His worry only escalated when Marcel harshly pushed himself away from the table and out of the kitchen door. Brian and him shared a quick glance of concern before quickly trailing after him into the lounge. 

Marcel trudged straight to Scotty’s sleeping form and kneeled beside him. He let his hand fall on his shoulder and lightly shook him, trying to wake him. Mini guessed he should do the same and shuffled over to Daithi and Lui. He passed Jonathan, who had a light grip on Evan’s forearm, whispering to him in a tired tone. Craig couldn’t make out their conversation as he maneuvered himself passed them to wake his friends. Nudging Daithi, Craig tried desperately to wake him. He  _ really  _ did not want to be the one to wake Lui again because of what had happened last time. To put it simply, he was pinned to the ground in a death grip while Tyler had to rip Lui off him. Whether it was a reaction to being woken after being in multiple gangs, or if it was simply out of pure agitation; Craig did not know. Lui was clearly not a morning person, and he certainly did not enjoy losing his sleep.

“Daithi, you fuck, get up,” Craig hissed, fearing he would wake Lui. “Come on, team meeting in Tyler’s.” He was only met with a groan and something he couldn’t understand before Daithi pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Good, I’m not waking  _ him _ again, last time he pinned me to the floor,” Mini motioned to Lui before standing up and head towards the room. He could faintly hear Daithi whispering something to Lui before he rounded the corner and found himself in the makeshift hospital once again. 

Craig patted into Tyler’s temporary room and sat in the armchair directly beside him where he had slept just minutes before. Tyler laid on his back with his head turned to face the wall behind Craig, arms draped over his chest from when he slipped out of his loose grip. Tyler’s hair was tousled and dirty, but Craig couldn't stop himself from running a hand through his hair. Stopping just as soon as he started, he removed his hand and placed it on his shoulder instead. Lightly, he shook his shoulder, attempting to rouse him. 

“Tyler. Tyler, come on. Wake up, we have a meeting in a minute,” Craig whispered to Tyler. Tyler began to stir, his cerulean eyes sluggishly moved to meet Craig’s eyes. Craig couldn’t help but let a smile tug at the corners of his lips, eyes crinkling up in the process. It seemed his smile was infectious because soon Tyler’s face was graced with a slight grin as well. Mini broke the small silence, “How you feeling fuck boy?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” Tyler responded sarcastically, “How’d you think I was gonna feel?” His voice was low and raspy, evidently strained. Craig handed him a glass of water that had been placed on the bedside table next to him the night before. It was kind of gross, but it was better than nothing.

“Glad to see that you lost nearly 15% of the blood in your body, but somehow, you still kept that snark. What a shame that would have been.”

Tyler couldn’t help but laugh. Craig was relieved that Tyler was doing well enough to exchange the banter they usually do. 

“But seriously, the meeting is happening, like now. Before you ask, I have no clue what’s it about,” Mini kept his voice low and watched carefully as Tyler tried to push himself up to a seated position. His arms were shaking and he winced as he put too much strain on his wound. Craig wrapped an arm around his waist and shoulder to help him up, gently pulling Tyler to an upright position. He barely caught Tyler’s soft _ thank you _ under his breath before Evan waltzed into the room with Jonathan in tow. Jonathan was still wiping the sleep from his eyes as he leaned against the wall. He was obviously tired and it then occurred to Craig that he was probably the closest to Tyler when he was shot, meaning had to have react the quickest. Getting Tyler out of the situation while wounded without getting himself shot must have been taxing on his body and mind. The others began to trickle into the room in their respective pairs. 

A harsh shadow was cast upon Evan’s face as he stepped forwards, directing the attention of the room to him. His hand was balled at his side and there were clear bags under his eyes. His hair looked as if he had run his hand through it a thousand times, voice raspy as he spoke.

“I will brief over what has happened in the last half week because nearly no one has the full story. Basically, Tyler was shot during a job. From the look of the bullet, a sniper hit him in the gut. The problem is none of us know where the sniper was and how they slipped under our radar, shot one of our members, delivers a message, and left without a trace. Lui and Nogla reported that nothing was visible from the rooftops, and none of our ground patrol found them anywhere.”

Mini, Tyler, and Jonathan shared a look of confusion when the message was mentioned. No one had spoken to them about it, what it said, how it was delivered. 

“When Mini sent Brock to inspect the bullet, he found this. I think it was the first and last time I will ever hear him swear that much,” Evan unraveled his hand and placed a small slip of paper on the wooden table in front of him. It was small and slightly crinkled with a dash of cursive scrawled upon the center. All three of them bent forwards to read what was carefully written across the milky parchment. The moment Jonathan and Mina's eyes scanned the paper, they snapped up to meet each other. All the blood had drained from their faces, eyes overflowing with fear. 

“Bathroom-”

“Sink-”

In the blink of an eye, Craig was sprinting out the bedroom door towards the kitchen sink. His hand was brought up to cover his mouth before he hunched over the metal side and emptied his guts. One hand was placed by the faucet to support his weight while the other wrapped around his gut. His stomach acid burned his throat, the taste burned his tongue. He assumed Jonathan was doing the same in the bathroom. A hand drew soft circles on his back as he spit out the last of whatever he had eaten in the past two days. Turning to meet the hand, Tyler stood beside him, clutching his stomach slightly. Craig shut his mouth and lightly nudged him towards the couch back in the living room. 

“Don’t do that again, you could rip the stitches. You’ll hurt yourself beyond that of your pride next time,” Craig muttered before softly pressing Tyler down to a sitting position before standing himself up again. He stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed his coffee mug from a couple nights before, left untouched since the incident. Dumping it’s forgotten contents into the sink, he filled it with water while cleaning the metal sink of his vomit as well. He spit into the sink and sipped the glass of water when he was faced with half of his crew staring at him. Sighing, he took a swig of water and washed his mouth out before thinking of how to explain his actions.

All Tyler could do was watch as his best friend’s face was twisted into dread; he desperately wanted to know what was going inside that head of his. He needed to know what was causing his best friend so much pain, so much distress. The now crumpled paper lie in the palm of his hands, what he guessed was the root of Craigs horror. Tearing through his head, Tyler hopelessly tried to find what it could have been connected to. He glanced down at the paper once more, the decorative writing sprawled over the paper to one word;  _ Remember? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to 0xmichelleeex0 on tumblr for helping me edit again! You can follow me there as Humantrash101 and her for more updates or to talk to us. She's an amazing person :)


	4. Problems

Craig opened his mouth to speak, but his words were caught in his throat. His eyes scanned his friends around him and nervously wrung his fingers. He was visibly tense and panic was flickering in his eyes as he glanced around the room. He racked his brain trying to find a way to speak. There was still something crushing his stomach, tempting him to hunch over the sink again, but he stopped himself. Craig knew he would have to put his thoughts into words and share them with his friends sooner or later, but nothing seemed to come together. Luckily for him, Jonathan stumbled into the room with the rest of the crew behind him.

Jonathan’s eyes were exhausted, almost dead looking. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his mouth was pressed in a clean line. With one glance at Craig, he sighed and fell into a kitchen chair, motioning for him to do that same. Craig snapped out of his daze and sat beside him. He placed his head into his hands as Jonathan began to speak, as he began to explain.

“Mafia,” he spoke with a rough voice. His words were rough and dry but paused to find the words to explain. “They’re back. Morello and his fucking friends… fuck... I thought they were gone from here for good. They’re back and they’ve never really liked a competition,” Jonathan’s words died off to a whisper at the end. He was focuses on the titles on the ceiling. His eyes flickered around above, almost as if they were searching for an answer he didn’t have. He raised his arms in defeat and dug his palms into his eyes harshly. “What I don’t understand is why. I don’t get why they’re back.”

Craig sipped water from his mug, emptily staring at the cracks in the table. He tore his eyes from the split and scanned his friend’s faces. Each and every one was twisted into confusion. They all exchanged looks, searching for some clarity in all the chaos. With a defeated sigh, Craig spoke, “Jonathan and I were… with them before this gang. We didn’t see each other too much, not till the end anyways. I don’t know how Jonathan became involved, but they got me right after I turned sixteen. My family was poor and sent me over here from Europe for new opportunity or something. Anyways, Morello offered me money, a lot of it, just to write simple little notes and pack them. I wasn’t even finished with school, god, I was so stupid,” 

Craig scrunched his eyes shut, “I agreed as long as they could send some of it back to my mum and dad. I worked there part time as I finished school, thinking that I had just won the world. All I had to do in return was to be quiet about it. After I graduated, I was working there full time. I began to place the pieces together once I saw more of the place. Random bloodstains here and there, guns and knives and weapons I didn’t know, the slightly vague threats I was writing. It didn’t hit me until I was twenty, then I figured it all out. I saw a bloody man being dragged by my doorway once in the early morning and I freaked. It hit me like a damn train. I confronted Morello and next thing you know, I’m being trained with unregistered guns.”

Craig’s voice began cracking, but no tears were brought to his eyes. The strain on his voice was clear, and Jonathan had removed his hands from his eyes to watch him carefully. Finally, he stepped in again to spare Craig the pain, “Yah, they got me in the same way just after junior high. But they skipped that fancy writing shit, sent me straight to the scenes. Told me I was cleaning up “art accidents”, didn’t take me a second once I was there to know it wasn’t paint that was spilled. I was trying to pay for my Ma and her hospital bills. Didn’t have to pay for them too long though, she passed barely a year after they grabbed me. I still don’t know if she died from whatever was killing her, or if it was Morello.” His words shakily died off. Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, and stucked in a deep breath before continuing.  
“I saw Craig around every once in awhile, but the most I think we ever talked was when he asked me how to spell ‘incorruptibility’, and I’m pretty sure I told him the wrong spelling. The “Big Morello Mafia Bust”, the one that covered the newspapers for months, it brought us together. Everybody disappeared, either killed because they knew too much, or they escaped to other parts of the country. I didn’t have a plan; I didn’t have a finished education. I found Mini curled up in an alley a few days after the bust, looking starved, beaten, and lost as all hell. I patched him up, and we combined whatever funds we could muster up to rent a shitty apartment at the edge of the city. We just worked from there. Then we heard of some dumbasses taking out the corrupted assholes who worked with Morello, so we hunted them down to join the cause. Lo and behold, our favourite dickhead, Evan, took us under his wing and let us into his gang. You all know the rest.” Jonathan looked winded, swaying slightly from side to side in his seat. 

Cautiously, Jonathan glanced at Evan, trying find a scrap of emotion or thought. They all knew he and Craig were a part of a bigger gang before but they never specified who. Jonathan expect to be kicked to the curb and forgotten about, but Evan just stared back. 

“So, let me get this straight. You and Craig were a part of the Mafia, whose Godfather was Morello, and then were left alone after the bust a couple years back. Craig wrote the notes in the bullets like the one we found in Tyler, and you were a part of the clean up crew. Afterwards, you found out about us killing off the rest of the gang and joined. They haven’t tried to contact either of you at all for the past couple years, but now they’re back and want you both dead, and by extension, the rest of us,” Evan spoke calmly but there was a hint of confusion in his voice. Jonathan tore his eyes away and found a new interest in the texture of his socks. He slowly nodded, as if he was ashamed of his past. 

“Okay… okay,” Evan shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to clear his cluttered mind. “Right, so now Morello’s Mafia buddies are trying to kill us. Okay.” Evan sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than clarify the situation for the rest of them. He brought two fingers to his temple and began to massage it. “I need time to think of a plan, to think of what to do. I can’t do this right now, I’m going to sleep on it.” 

Jonathan placed his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. A deep sigh escaped his lips, trickling between his fingers. Evan placed a hand on his shoulder spoke gently, “Come on now, let’s go.” Curiously, Jonathan looked into Evan’s eyes, looking for any hint of resentment or hate.

“Wait, like, together? You’re not throwing us?”

“Of course not, now let’s go. I wanna sleep,” Evan turned to the rest of them, “You all should too. We have a big day tomorrow.” Jonathan lips twitched into a small, grateful smile but it quickly faded as soon as it came. He nodded and followed Evan out the front door, bidding them a farewell. Soon the rest followed, leaving an exhausted Mini and Tyler to find their own solace in sleep.


	5. Not a chapter

Hey guys, so most of you understand the problem’s surrounding Mini lately, right? If you don’t understand check out @wherebbsmeetsfandom (on tumblr). A lot of people are agreeing with her, so it’s not a personal thing. Anyways, I’ve kinda fallen out of love with the Minicat ship, for writing Among Ashes at least. I’m not too far in, so I think it would be alright to make this change. What do you guys think about me changing the main character’s from Mini and Tyler to Scotty and Marcel? I know it’s not as popular as the Minicat ship, but it’s a personal favourite of mine, and I already have a ton of the story planned out. I could just go back and change the names, rewrite some characterization, and continue from there. I’d love to continue working on the story, but I just am not as personally invested in it as I was. I really want to continue writing the story, but Mini has just been a little sketchy and I don’t care for him as much as I did then. And Basicallyido407 is a ship I hold close, I feel I’d be much more motivated to finish the chapters than with the character’s now. I’d just switch their roles; Mini and Tyler would have smaller roles instead of Marcel and Scotty. But, if no one wants that, I can just scrap story I guess. What do you guys think? 

Please tell me either in the comments, or if you'd like it to be less public, talk to me on Tumblr. Catch me at http://humantrash101.tumblr.com/ and I'm all ears. Sorry about this.


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